Ever since I was eight or nine I’ve been tired. Give me ten minutes at almost any point in the day and I can fall asleep. It’s quite the party trick.
In high school I did overnight sleep studies at hospitals and visited specialists and filled out questionnaires, but no one ever had an answer. Finally I just stopped searching for them. But about two months ago I started the doctor rounds again, hoping maybe this time they would find the answer to my chronic fatigue.
They didn’t.
Whatever it is—whether chronic fatigue, some side affect to a long-ago medication, or a mind that just needs more rest—I feel too limited. (Even today I chided myself for needing a nap before editing this.) For years I have told myself I need to just get more energy. I need to be as productive as everyone around me. Buck up and get things done, no matter how tired I am.
And I need to be a good Christian and serve at my church as often as possible, belong to small groups and lead Bible studies. Spend more time praying, more time reading the Bible, more time serving. Not sleeping.
Is God disappointed in me? Do my limitations make me fail as a human? A Christian?
Then he led out his people like sheep and guided them in the wilderness like a flock. -Psalm 78:52
I’m slowly making my way through the Psalms each morning. Today was Psalm 78—all seventy-two verses of it. Asaph, the author, is reciting the history of the Israelites in the desert so that future generations will know of the goodness of God. He writes of God splitting the seas and sending the plagues on their captors, of God as a shepherd leading the people of Israel through the wilderness.
Verse 52, among others, describes the Israelites—when they are at their best—as sheep following God. I’ve heard this metaphor time and again—it pops up all throughout scripture. But for some reason this morning something about it really stood out to me.
A sheep’s greatest quality is not its productivity but its obedience.
Sheep are culturally famous for their simple-mindedness and domesticity. Psalm 78 details the sheep as submissive at their best and wayward and destructive at their worst, refusing the listen to the Shepherd and trying to ascend above their design—perhaps trying to fly or sprint or lay eggs—something beyond their capacity.
They are offered peace and domesticity by God the shepherd but continually attempt to evolve past their need for him.
With upright heart he shepherded them and guided them with his skillful hand. -Psalm 78:72
We are told all the time we need to transcend our humanness, that we have to be more than we are.
As young professionals, we are always supposed to be working towards something new, commoditizing not just our work but also our hobbies and interests with blogs or Etsy shops or social media platforms.
As people with bodies, we are inundated with images of what “health” looks like. Photoshopped abs and hips and false promises of “HOW TO LOSE WEIGHT FAST” or “DO THIS TRICK TO GET SEXY OVERNIGHT.” Being healthy within the context of our own skin is not enough. We must do more, become more.
Relationally we are told we need to work harder and strive for more. There’s always another thing you could be doing to better serve your spouse, or, if you’re single like me, another thing to become more content and more desireable. One more book, one more podcast, one more gym session.
Or Christianity. Pray longer, memorize more scripture, learn more theology. We don’t get the spiritual breakthroughs we want because we don’t have enough faith or energy or persistence. If we are really following God we will keep going and doing and working and evangelizing and serving even when we are drop-dead tired.
It’s not enough to be sheep. Somehow we must transcend.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. -Psalm 23:1
John chapter 9. Jesus and his disciples are walking along a road and come across a blind man.
And [Jesus’] disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”
The disciples understood this man’s blindness to be the result of sin—he was unable to live the same type of productive life they could, and it must be because he or his parents did something.
Few people will tell us our limitedness is because of our sin. But isn’t that what is often implied? That somehow we are too lazy or stupid or sinful to overcome our limitedness. That if only we keep working, keep producing, trust God more, pray more, rely on scripture more, we wouldn’t be limited.
If we’re not able to do that then, well, the problem must be us.
But Jesus stands in the way.
“It was not that this man sinned.”
Your limitedness is not a sin. My limitedness is not a sin. Our limitedness is not a sin.
Jesus rebukes the lies and the manipulations: yes, sin exists and yes, it stands in the way of our true flourishing. But, Jesus is quick to point out, being limited human being—in whatever way that appears—is not a sin.
The kingdom of God is not for the perfect or the performative. It is presence. Availability. A willingness to follow where God calls, trusting he knows all of our limitedness and will guide us with that in mind.
To be limited is to be human. As you enter the New Year, I hope you know you are loved by God within your humanity, not despite it.
Happy New Year.